A Rainy Drive, Some Childhood Flashbacks, and One Great Lunch
Lunch with a parent hits differently, especially when it’s long overdue. Between work, to-do lists, and the chaos of adult life, we often forget how grounding it can be to simply sit across from each other and talk. On a cloudy afternoon, my dad and I decided to catch up, and I chose a place I’d been eyeing for a while, Anjeer in Gurugram. I’d heard they prepare Indian food a bit differently, and that was always my cue.
Tucked inside The Kitchens at Global Gateway Towers, Anjeer (named after the fig) feels warm and inviting from the moment you walk in. The vibe is modern yet earthy; it doesn’t shout for attention, but it makes you want to linger. Indian pop music played softly, raindrops fell outside the glass windows, and there was a nice buzz in the air. Before we even ordered, I knew this lunch would be memorable.
Sipping Nostalgia
We started with two mocktails, Mango Picante and Himalayan Sour. Honestly, both were bursts of nostalgia in a glass. The Mango Picante tasted like a grown-up version of aam panna, but with a cheeky kick of chilli. It reminded me of summer afternoons as a kid, minus the sticky fingers and mango-stained clothes.
My dad took a sip, raised an eyebrow, and smirked, “Mithi liking something khatta-meetha? Miracles do happen.” (Yes, my name’s Mithi. I’ve heard all the sweet jokes, so keep them coming.) The Himalayan Sour was sharper and zingier. It had apricot, lime, and Himalayan salt. Bold, tangy, and refreshing. If you usually skip mocktails, this one might change your mind.
Appetisers That Caught Us Off Guard
We let the chef choose a few favourites, and for the next 15 minutes, we found ourselves saying “wow” after every bite. The Bhatti Paneer Tikka arrived first, charred perfectly with smoky, crisp edges and a centre that was incredibly soft. You could tell it had been marinated with real care—not overwhelmed with masala, but built up with layers of subtle spice and smoke.
Next was the Samosa with Pindi Chole, which looked simple until we dug in. This was not your typical samosa-chutney dish. It included mint, tamarind, juicy pomegranate, and a rich, well-spiced chole underneath that brought it all together. It reminded me of something my nani would’ve made, just dressed up for a special occasion. The Ghee Roast Masala Chicken was pure drama, in a good way. It was spicy, bold, and packed with the warmth of slow-roasted ghee that hits your throat and makes you pause. Each bite was a burst of flavour—smoky, peppery, and unapologetically Indian.
Finally, we were floored by the Galouti Kebabs. They were silky, melt-in-your-mouth soft, and full of depth. I took one bite and couldn’t believe it had no meat. My dad, with his knack for detecting secret ingredients, guessed it had raw banana. I almost gagged. I hate raw banana. But this? This was magic. The chef later explained that they use raw banana, yam, chana dal, and chana flour. Somehow, it all came together perfectly. “Can’t wait to tell your mom you ate kachha kela and liked it,” my dad grinned. Touché.
Mains That Felt Like Home
At this point, we were almost full, but the mains deserved their moment. We ordered Dal Anjeer, along with Mirchi Paratha and Malabar Parotta. The dal was cooked in a clay pot, and you could taste the difference. It was thick, creamy, and just smoky enough to be memorable. The Mirchi Paratha was flaky and had a slow burn—not spicy just for the sake of it, but flavorful and warm. It reminded both of us of home-cooked lunches during school holidays. The Malabar Parotta was soft, buttery, and perfect for scooping up the dal. Comfort food at its best.
The Sweetest Ending
Dessert was Pistachio Gelato, and it truly was the cherry on top. It was thick, nutty, and creamy, like someone had frozen a pista milkshake at its best moment. No artificial taste: just clean, comforting flavour.
